Starlight: Chapter 1

001

THE MISSION

Rich Foyer, the last American hero, has died. After weeks of radio silence from the Taurus-6, the all-robotic crew accompanying the lone astronaut sent the haunting transmission confirming that the first man to step foot on a planet outside our solar system, was dead. As we mourn the great loss of Earth’s beloved explorer, the ISF has prepared an impromptu mission to recover the body and conduct an investigation of this tragedy. The Taurus-7, which wasn’t supposed to launch for another four years, will be taking off later this evening and beginning the lonely trek across the stars to the Atlas System. I’m Diana Woltz, with the Chanel 9 News, here in the Napir Lunar Station.

Jonah Moon turned off the TV in his apartment.

“You ready?” A black man in a lab coat asked from the doorframe. Dr. Dylan Weson was the director of the Starlight Missions, working closely with each of the astronauts’ training for interstellar travel. He escorted Jonah down the corridors to get outfitted in his suit. Jonah had been the second generation of those born on the lunar surface, which is where his last name was derived from. Most families who moved to the new worlds changed their names, as a fresh start away from the dying Earth.

“We know that Rich survived the flight and explored the surface for at least a few weeks. The coordinates for the crater he was camped in are in your droid’s database as well as the maps he sent back to us,” Dr. Weson briefed Jonah again on the details, for once he launched, he’d be on his own. Other assistants helped Jonah into his white space suit and secured his airtight gloves and boots. “Just find him and bring him back. More than likely, his andorid’s have already calculated the cause of death. Atlas-2 is just inside the goldilocks zone, so we suspect biohazardous bacteria, maybe toxic flora, but that’s a stretch. Don’t transmit the cause if you get it, just report when you have him and head back. He was the president’s nephew, ‘America’s last hero,’ or whatever they’re calling him. Look, if his death was anything less than honorable, people won’t have it. Plus, our PR reps don’t want any of this to fall on you. So just read the script when the time comes.”

“Okay,” The young astronaut nodded, knowing his work ahead of him. Dr. Weson took the glass helmet and clipped it into the metal collar that sat around Jonah’s neck. The flight suit was filled with oxygen as the regulator was switched on. He breathed slowly as he stood and adjusted to the suit’s mobility.

“Everything work?” Weson asked another scientist in the room.

“Looks like his computer is functional, sir,” he said, pointing to a device that monitored Jonah’s vitals and the environment outside of the suit.

“T-7 is ready for boarding,” a voice came over the intercom.

“Your heartrate’s up, son,” Weson turned back to Jonah. “Figured with your experience you wouldn’t be nervous.”

“Space flight is never dull.”

“No, it isn’t,” Weson chuckled. He knew Jonah was the quiet type and hardly showed much emotion, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. Dr. Weson had taught Jonah long enough at the Academy to know when he was afraid.

They began walking down the bright corridor toward the shuttle bus. On the other side of reinforced windows, lay the dark sky and ashen lunar surface. Stars glittered with the sun.

“We can tell you the calculations all day, but we really don’t know what it’s going to be like. The data we received seemed to jump from hospitable to hostile. Then we lost contact with the bots entirely. Just be careful. Have your droids help salvage the equipment from Taurus-6 and load it onto your ship.”

“Yessir,” Jonah reached for the bulkhead.

“Jonah,” Dr. Weson sighed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he opened the heavy circular door and stepped into the airlock. The room around Jonah depressurized and filled with red lights. A green light switched on and the bulkhead at the other end of the airlock unlatched. Jonah walked out and closed the heavy door behind him. On the platform in front of him was a shuttle bus that sat on rails, leading out to the launch pad.

The bus door latched behind him and the vehicle began to glide over the desolate surface. The blocky buildings and glass domes looked a lot smaller from the outside. It was rare to see the base from this view, most people only ever saw the inside of the robust hangars and long hallways. If one were lucky enough to travel to and from the Moon, they would see the massive network of white buildings. Mostly low to the ground and square in shape, save for the enormous dome greenhouses and tall observatories.

The bus was self-driving, so there was no friendly wave goodbye as Jonah soon stepped out the door and onto the runway, which was lined with white lights. The lunar surface was bleak and silent. Yet, before him was the impressive T-7 Warp Shuttle. The grey and white spaceship had twin rockets in the rear and twin jets under the wings. There were two dorsal fins that sat at forty-five-degree angles. There was a cargo bay in the ship’s mid-section with an opening roof, much like older the generations of space shuttles. Though the Taurus was smaller and sleeker than those models. There were two hatches leading into the ship. One was up near the cockpit with a ladder built into the hull. The other led directly into the cargo bay, with an extending gangway for easy access.

Jonah went up the ladder underneath the cockpit. A hatch was opened as soon as he reached the top. Stepping through the threshold of the shuttle, Jonah turned around and made sure the automatic door was locked for flight.

“Pressurizing cabin,” he said, lifting a lever on the door panel. Jonah walked across the main deck to and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. His breathing hissed out of the spacesuit, partially fogging up the glass helmet in the cool air. He began to carefully examine the pre-launch check list and follow each instruction exactly.

“Alright, T-7, how are you looking?” A voice came from the comm system on the dashboard. Jonah flicked a few switches with his bulky gloves as he meticulously worked his way down the list.

“Taurus to control, I am set for launch.”

“Control, Taurus. Good to hear, all systems go on our end. Commencing countdown. Take off in ten…”

Jonah looked around, as he was tied in his seat. He’d spent years working on freighters, going to and from Mars from the lunar colonies. This was nothing new to him. Though these were the first serious missions where there was only a living crew of one, and the rest were robotic. Not that Jonah minded, he felt that he understood robots more than people.

“Four.”

Yet even he couldn’t deny how lonely the trip would be. The only person on the same side of the universe as him would be dead. Before Jonah could begin to let fear fester in his mind about how Rich Foyer may have died, the shuttle began to shake. Boosters ignited and pushed off from the dust. Runway catapults helped bring the ship to terminal velocity as the track slowing sloped up. The shuttle shook furiously, and Jonah was forced back in his seat. His chest compressed with force. Yet from the outside, the shuttle lifted off as smoothly as any. It left a trail of fire as it arced into the black sky. As the shuttle pulled away from the Moon, gravity slipped passed and soon the pressure of the launch melted away.

“Launch successful, control. Preparing for warp departure,” Jonah said as he caught his breath. He took the control wheel and switched the craft over to manual steering.

“Copy that, Taurus. We’ll see you on the other side,” The human voice cut out, leaving only the sounds of beeps and mechanical movements of the droids on board. There was no communication while the ship was in warp, so Jonah would have to make company with the machines.

“You guys ready for flight?” Jonah called back, unbuckling from his seat, and floating back to the cabin. One bot was hanging loosely from where it had been secured for launch. It unbuckled and stepped out, heavy magnetic feet holding it to the deck.

“Preparing warp engine for ignition,” The cold steel machine turned to Jonah, then stepped through the hatch to the cargo bay. This machine was a dark tungsten in a skeletal humanoid shape. Its main computer was cased in the rib-shaped plating with power cords running down its spine to the hips. Its head was a rectangular with tall yellow lights for eyes as its only facial feature. Behind the lights were an array of scanners and sensors. They were manufactured to work alongside humans in factories and mines, but their sophisticated computers lent them to be particularly useful in space missions.

It went down a ladder and across the empty cargo bay to another hatch. Behind the heavy glass was a purple miasma contained in a reinforced sphere. The warp engine. The robot went through the hatch and after entering an encrypted security code, began to switch levers that made the nebulous gas glow brighter.

The International Space Federation felt it more valuable to program the androids with the knowledge of running the advanced warp engines, rather than taking years to train each of their astronauts. Plus, there was still the unknown effects of warp travel on the human body. So, the task was left to C.O.L. The Common Operation Laborers, commonly called C.O.L. units, could virtually run forever. They needed minimal maintenance, save for updating their immense database. Some speculated the only reason ISF still used people was for the publicity and pride of mankind standing on the shoulders of their android’s achievements. Though Jonah knew that people were invaluable to space exploration, he had dealt with enough situations on the freighters to learn that truth. Sending machines just isn’t the same as sending people; and despite what the robots would say, there are some things only humans can do.

Jonah took off his helmet and jumpsuit, which was precautionary if there was a malfunction during the launch sequence and needed to be jettisoned from the craft. He stowed it in its container which folded back into the hull. Pulling another container open, Jonah grabbed his black I.S.F. bomber jacket and threw it over the long sleeve he had on.

Jonah went back to the controls and banked the ship, using the holographic star dome as a guide to aim at the system he was going to. Atlas was a binary star system among the Pleiades cluster, near the constellation Taurus. The primary star was a blue giant, estimated to be at least five times the size of Earth’s sun. The smaller star was on the outer edge of the solar system, with three of the four planets revolving around the giant and the other staying close to the white dwarf star. A truly unique system in the grandeur of space.

“Warp core is ready, standing by for ignition,” The C.O.L. unit walked into the cockpit. It sat in the copilot’s seat as Jonah finished dialing into the star’s coordinates.

“Thank you, Cole,” Jonah replied, switching off the boosters and stabilizers. In Jonah’s mind, it made sense to just call it “Cole,” rather than the lifeless acronym C.O.L.

“Waiting for you, sir.”

Jonah only hesitated a moment. With the press of the button, he’d be altering space-time and launching himself across a vast and dangerous void at superluminal speeds.

“Ignite,” Jonah replied. The machine flipped a small lid on the control panel and hit the button underneath.

The stars all around him smeared across the window, then faded to blackness. Streaks of light occasionally burned past if they soared by a star or nebula. The warp engine rippled space as the ship flew, unnoticeable to a stationary observer. In theory it “pulls” the fabric of space closer to itself while “pushing” what’s behind away; essentially, able to move faster than the speed of light. Since Atlas was 431 lightyears away, warp is the only feasible means of getting there.

“Setting auto pilot,” The unit chipped.

The journey would take about a week, so Jonah got as comfortable as he could in the small ship. He went to the couch built into the hull which would also be used as a bed during sleeping hours. The ship’s lights would alternate between night and day, to keep a healthy sleep schedule, and slowly adjusted to the Atlas-2’s 18-hour day cycle.

“Are you ready for your examination, sir?” The medical droid folded out from the wall. Jonah had to be tested on a daily basis to study the effects of warp travel and to ensure he was healthy enough to continue the mission. “Scanning entrails now… No signs of tumors or swellings or entanglements or internal bleeding…”

“Cheery,” Jonah muttered to himself.

“You are cleared to continue operations for the time being,” The robotic arms folded themselves back into the wall.

In the void of work to be done, Jonah sat in the couch and looked out the porthole, watching stars fly by. It was a strange feeling, being so far away from Earth and everything human history has ever known. Finally, humans had left their pale blue dot and took on the endeavor of visiting foreign stars. It would have been an exciting age of exploration if not for the looming shadow over humanity. With each cycle around the sun, it seemed like everyone was expecting it to be their last.

Can’t imagine what you felt going through this for the first time, Jonah thought, his mind set on Rich and the planet he died on. Probably preparing your speech more than anything. Still, this …absolute… alone is about the only thing we have in common.

Rich Foyer’s mission was nobility, for the betterment of the human race. Jonah’s mission was much more solemn. He wouldn’t have any coverage, the only words he was authorized to transmit were written out for him, confirming he recovered the body. As the young astronaut stared out the window, horror began to seep into his mind. He had never seen a corpse before. Questions like “how did he die?” and “what will be waiting for me?” raced around his head until he eventually drifted asleep. And as he slept, the Taurus flew further into the night; charging the black.

“Good morning, sir,” Cole shook Jonah awake. Lights on the ship switched from a soft red to warm white to cool white.

“Uh, morning,” Jonah opened his eyes and unclipped himself from the bunk. He floated into the upright position.

“Which breakfast would you like me to prepare for you today? Your options are: Breakfast alternate one, Breakfast alternate two, Breakfast…”

“One is fine,” Jonah pushed off against the wall and went over to the water closet. It was an accordion door that hid the small vacuum toilet and water dispenser. He pushed a bubble of water out of the canister and passed it between his hands a few times before cleaning his face and hair. Then with a dentist-like vacuum, sucked the water out of the air to be cleaned and recycled.

Jonah stared into the mirror, still seeing himself as the kid who dreamed of reaching the stars. His hair was short and kept, his bright grey eyes were the focal point of his clean face. Jonah was small in stature, barely managing to pass the physical requirements for the astronaut program.

“Breakfast alternate one, sir,” Cole brought a tray with artificial food, resembling eggs and sausage, with a small bag of orange juice. The machine let go of the tray before Jonah could catch it. Instead of falling and spilling over the deck, the food remained still in the zero-gravity. Cole then walked back to the copilot’s seat, his magnetic feet still securing him to floor. Jonah took the hovering tray and ate while floating in the cabin, trying valiantly to keep his food from drifting away.

Throughout the day, Jonah went through the holographic charts of the Atlas system. There were computer models and maps that had been uploaded from the T-6’s Cartography and Exploration Drones. He watched the simulated orrery on repeat. It was peaceful, how the two stars danced around the system’s core and how the planets played around their assigned star. He played with the model’s settings, adjusting its size and speed. The blue lights emitted from the control panel filled the ship. He floated from planet to planet, spending a lot of time observing Atlas-2. He zoomed in on the crater where he knew the T-6 had landed. Jonah switched the display so that the map of the surface stretched out over the deck, seeing the mesas and craters from a bird’s eye view. He floated above the simulation, studying the geography of what little area of the planet had been mapped. There was a pin in the exact location the ship landed. In all directions, the CE drones mapped the impact crater, but Jonah noticed a sector of the map was missing.

“I wonder why the drones couldn’t map this,” Jonah said aloud.

“Probability that the CE-Ds couldn’t perform their operations are significantly low, as they were designed to fly through any environment,” Cole blurted from the cockpit. Nothing is more confident in robots than other robots.

“Hmm,” Jonah dismissed the anomaly and shut off the map.

Often, Jonah committed himself to reading to pass the days. Looking at something that wasn’t lit up on a screen gave his eyes a welcomed break. Besides, Jonah was fascinated by stories from Earth. Reading about a pristine island out in the ocean seemed almost too good to be real, almost humorous. He didn’t think there was anywhere left on the Earth like that. It was easy to forget people hunted for food and swam on beaches, “lived off the land,” as they said.

From what Jonah had heard, the Earth was void of most living things. People built houses on top of landfills, or whatever mountain range stuck out from the flooded terrain. Islands of trash floated aimlessly in the oceans and filled the shorelines. Humanity thought they could start over on the Moon or on Mars. They had reached a point where they thought it was easier to create an artificial environment rather than to save the one they were given. The hope with colonizing on another planet was that humanity could be given a second chance to live sustainably. But as people took advantage of the Earth and what resources were made on extraterrestrial worlds, most sociologists at the time agreed that the human race just wouldn’t change. The prime example was this mission itself; rushing the completion of an interstellar ship in order to bring back one body and a few spreadsheets of data.

The Atlas system didn’t even contain the closest habitable planets. Protesters pointed out it was only chosen to align with the ISF’s insignia, which was the titan, Atlas. Yet even those who think the ISF is a waste of life sustaining resources, there was no debate that humanity needed a new home. Earth was near lost and it was far too expensive to house the rest of humanity on the Moon or Mars.

Jonah was strapped into the couch, reading from the same book. William Golding’s Lord of the Flies was a long-time classic from Earth. Boys fighting over what little resources they had, even killing each other for them. When all along, the world and all its provisions were still there, just out of sight. They could be a day away from rescue, from food and clothing, and never know it. That was the difference, Jonah thought, between Earth and that small island. Earth could leave, find new resources, new food, a new Earth. If humanity stayed put, surely, they would end up like this tribe of boys lost at sea. Blind to all the potential of the stars. Regardless if people saw it necessary, Jonah knew he was sailing away to find a new island.

The black outside the window glowed blue, then faded back to darkness. Jonah looked up to see it begin to change and brighten from blue to purple.

“Stop the ship.”

“Unnecessary.”

“Cole, stop the ship.”

“Sir, I fail to see why it’s—”

“Cole,” Jonah went up to the cockpit. The machine complied, pulled a lever downward, and began flipping switches. The Taurus drifted out of warp and stars were set in place again. Jonah’s thoughts were correct. As the space outside smeared back to normal, they found themselves sitting in a nebula. Spanning the entire field of view, this cloud of energized gas glowed bright cyan. The young man’s eyes lit up, taking in the sight. The small white ship cruised through the ocean of space. A sailboat in a still sea of purple hues with waves taller than mountains. Light from the seven stars of the Pleiades reflected off the gas and dust leftover from the formation of the close stellar cluster, causing the nebula to glow.

“I do not understand why we have stopped. This nebula posed no threat to our flight.”

“I know,” Jonah said softly, too mesmerized by the sight to explain. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

“We are approaching in the Pleiades Cluster, also classified as Messier 45. If that’s what you mean by here.”

“And there’s Atlas,” Jonah pointed to a bright blue giant to the left of the other stars in the cluster.

“Correct, we were a day from approaching before the flight was delayed.”

“I think it was worth the delay.”

“Not so, we have not gained any data that didn’t already exist. This nebula was already in our system.”

“Alright, Cole, bring us in,” Jonah chuckled at the machine. It flipped the lid on the protected button and hit it again to ignite the warp engine. Except nothing happened. Their ship coasted through the vast nebula. Jonah looked over at Cole as the machine tried pushing the button again. After a few seconds and orange warning light flashed on the dashboard.

“There appears to be a slight malfunction,” Cole looked up at Jonah.

“I would say this is more than a slight problem,” Jonah got up from his seat. He floated to the back of the cabin and looked through the glass port in the hatch, leading down into the cargo bay. The purple miasma was still glowing through its glass repository. “The warp core’s still hot and ready to go.”

“There appears to be several other issues with the controls.”

“Such as?” Jonah pushed off the back hull and went toward the cockpit.

“Dorsal fin rudders. Horizontal stabilizer controls. Booster control. Rear lights.”

“How did we lose half the ship?” Jonah said under his breath. His eyes darted around as he was trying to piece it together. He got into the pilot’s seat and tried to adjust the dorsal fins and stabilizers. He could move the controls, but nothing was responding. The orange lights were still flashing all around the dash. “Run a diagnostic. If we don’t get the warp back, we’ll be coasting for eternity.”

Cole hit the holographic display monitor and flipped through a few screens before pulling up a 3D model of their ship.

“Running systems diagnostic,” Cole typed into the control panel. The holographic model disassembled itself and one section at a time flashed in bright strobes.

//HULL: SECURE//

//WINDSCREEN: SECURE//

//AIRLOCK: SECURE//

//CONTROLS: OPERATIONAL//

//POWER: OPERATIONAL//

//HEATING UNIT: OPERATIONAL//

//OXYGEN RECLAMATION SYSTEM: OPERATIONAL//

//CARGO BAY DOORS: SECURE//

//RIGHT WING: SECURE//

//WARNING: LEFT WING: DAMAGED//

“We lost the wing?!”

“No, sir. Minor damage.”

Cole zoomed in. There was a small point blinking on the underside of the left wing.

“This small breach is the only issue?” Jonah asked.

“Other than loss of control to the rear systems.”

“Pull up the Taurus schematics,” Jonah had an idea, but was afraid he’d be right. Cole switched over the hologram to the in-depth ship blueprints. He rotated the ship and narrowed in on the left wing, where the damage indicator was blinking. “Removing outer layer. Showing power supply and wiring.”

There was a heavy cable that ran through the belly of the ship, where the wing met the fuselage. Jonah highlighted the cable to shine throughout the schematics.

“There it is,” Jonah said to himself. This cable went directly from the controls to the ship’s rear flight functions. “We must have hit something coming out of warp and lost control to the rear.”

Jonah looked out the windscreen and gazed once again at the towering clouds.

“One of us will have to go out there,” he said.

“Noted,” Cole got up and walked with its magnetic feet toward the cargo bay. “It is advised you wear your Intra/Extravehicular Activities suit in case of any airlock compromises.”

“Noted…” Jonah rolled his eyes. He went to the suit storage container, took off his bomber jacker, and put on the airtight flight suit. He secured his helmet and flipped on his vital monitors. Short breathes and fast heartrate. “Is everything secure in the cargo bay?” Jonah asked. His suit came equipped with shortrange comms, which Cole was could emit frequencies on.

“Yes, sir,” Cole replied, waiting on the other side of the airtight hatch. It had equipped itself with a portable welder, now strapped to its back, and an electrician’s kit around its waist.

“Depressurizing cargo bay,” Jonah said at the controls. White gas rolled out of the Taurus and dissipated into the vacuum. “That was a lot of oxygen… We’ll have to keep you sealed off for the rest of the journey. We don’t have enough air to replenish all that.”

“Noted. Ready for extravehicular repairs.”

“Opening cargo bay doors.”

White lights turned to orange. The row of locks along the top of the ship slid open. Over the cargo bay, the hull opened up in two and slowly pulled back from each other. Above Cole and the exposed Taurus shuttle were streamers of bright nebulous gas amidst a cradle of newly forming stars. The ship sailed under them without sound or wind. Cole didn’t take in the view, though. It was already walking on the outside of the hull, taking slow, purposeful steps with its magnetic feet. The edges of his metal body began to frost. Cole walked up toward the front of the fuselage, where it would be easier to get underneath the ship.

“How’s it looking out there?”

“A piece of the wing broke and sliced into itself. I will have to cut away damaged area to access the compromised cables.”

“And you grabbed the replacement plating?” Jonah couldn’t help but ask. He’d serviced freighters mid-flight before, and the bots had always meticulously dealt with the problem, but there was a hardwired fear of being in a spacecraft that’s been compromised.

“Yes, sir.”

Cole knelt down on the underside of the wing and cut the remaining metal attached to the broken piece. It pulled the broken plate out of the wiring conduit and let it float off. Then, Cole removed the damaged rubber around the wires and examined each of the lines.

“Are there any wires still in good shape?” Jonah asked over the comms.

“Only the blue wire.”

“It’s a good thing they all show up blue on the hologram…”

“Label on it is A. B. 1 and 2.”

“A. B…” Jonah zoomed in on the schematics display. “Here it is, afterburner 1 and 2. So, splice all other wires. One at a time. We don’t want to cause any misfires.”

“Yes, sir… Replacing booster 1…” Cole announced as it quickly sniped away the faulty wires and spliced in its replacement. “Replacing booster 2… Replacing warp controls… Replacing dorsal fin controls… Rep-”

Jonah jolted up at the sudden silence.

“Cole?” He heard the machine walking under the wing.

“My apologies, sir. The wire cutter drifted away from me. Replacing horizontal stabilizer controls… Replacing rear light controls… Replacing exterior panel…”

“Ship repaired,” a voice came out of the dashboard.

Jonah closed the cargo bay doors after Cole made it back inside. The warp core was still warm enough to reactivate without further preparations. Jonah double checked he was pointed at Atlas-2, now near enough to the star system for his trajectory to make a difference in travel time. He kept the rear hatch sealed, locking Cole away for the last day of their journey.